Be the Boss!

Although I miss him, I think I like it when Daddy travels out-of-town leaving me home with Mommy. You know why? Because then I'm the boss! If you're a dog reading this quick thinking about your rawhide bone-you need to know this. HOW? Read more.

My Luxating Patella

Remember a couple years ago when I wrote about my luxating patella? In 2007, I found out I had a Grade II luxating patella in my right hind leg. At the time we were faced with the decision as to whether I should have surgery to correct the issue. The choice to have surgery or not presented itself with certain risks and there seemed to be no win-win situation at the time. Not to mention, the surgery itself is expensive and rehab was going to be very challenging. At the time, my parents decided to wait to have the surgery and see how my leg progressed. Many dogs can have Grade II patellar luxation and be just fine. Others digress to have Grade III and Grade IV, both of which require corrective surgery.

Hearing this diagnosis has done nothing to change how I play. I still run hard, play rough, and jump off the back of the couch. During each trip to the veterinarian, my parents wait with baited breath for an update on my leg hoping it has not progressed to Grade III or Grade IV. Last week I went to the veterinarian for my annual visit, during which we finally heard the news we were waiting for.

Interested in hearing more? Check out my new digs!

Sink or Swim?

Now that the weather is warming up and school is out for the summer, it leaves more time for planning cookouts, pool parties, vacations and everything in between. There will be, however, one activity in which I may not be participating.

Swimming! First off, I'm not a fan of water. This is proved whenever I take a bath. However, during a trip out to the country, I went swimming-that is, if that's what you call it- with my uncles and my Mom. Since then, my parents debate over whether I can actually swim.

This debate may never be solved as I won't allow myself to be put into a pool for an experimental swim. Imagine my delight then when I came across this video (although I feel terrible for this pug). Pug's can't swim....or can they? My disclaimer: This video is incredibly stupid. I haven't blogged in a long time and was compelled too after viewing the video.

The Big Day

When you see your parents take down curtains, photos and other wall decor or start emptying out closets, know that your life is about to change. I've been through this once before, but this time it was different. It was unsettling, scary and tiring. Instead of spending my days napping and occasionally barking through the window at children and geese, I spent my days wandering the newly-created maze as my parents stacked more and more boxes in the living room.

I've seen them pack their suitcases for vacations and trips to the country, but this was different. This was bigger. They were taking everything. Were they going to take me? Anytime my parents left the room I followed. Anytime they tried walking out the door, I tried to follow.

Then, one morning, I knew my dreaded day had come. My parents woke up early. I knew after spending the night on the floor with my parents that the time had come. But, I didn't expect to be left out. Mommy took me to doggie day camp and I cried and whined the whole way there. I wanted to go on their trip too. When the lady at day camp took me I lunged for Mommy, hoping to charm my way into getting a free treat, but it didn't work. I played with the other dogs, but I couldn't help but wonder, "When will they come back for me? Or will they?"

Early that evening, my parents came back for me and I couldn't have been happier. Instead of taking me back to my home they took me to a new place. When I first walked in I ran down the stairs to the basement, then I ran back up the stairs and then up the other flight of stairs to the second floor. I ran all over our new home and found all those boxes my parents packed up the week before.

As I investigated my new surroundings, I realized it wasn't totally new. I had been here the night before with my parents. They brought me to visit the night before so I wouldn't be totally freaked out when I got home. I guess they just tried to protect me from all the chaos that went on that day by allowing me to have fun in day camp.

My parents started unpacking boxes and moving around furniture as I explored the new area and barked at children playing outside. Although we moved to another apartment, this one is much bigger. With extra floor space, four small flights of stairs to run up and down, and a large grassy area outside, I have a lot of extra space to run and play.

I think I'm going to like it here. Now, if only I can get my parents to settle down and leave the boxes and paint cans alone for awhile. I need attention too, you know.

Obviously, I've taken a two month hiatus without telling anyone. I've missed blogging and I miss reading all of your comments and stories as well. I can say I'll do better, but really that is up to my typist to determine.

Over the past two months quite a bit has happened and I plan to catch up on everything.

For starters in December I had a very crazy Christmas and met my Mommy's cousin for the first time ever. Recently, it snowed a lot. Leaving us with tons of ice, snow and a snow day. Also, Daddy traveled recently for a very long time or at least it seemed like it. So, it was just Mommy and me and I'll tell you about that later as well.

I won't leave you in the dark very long. I'd write about it now, but my typist is waiting on pictures.

Lazy Gross Weekends

Sigh. I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to not like winter. Here it is either rainy or snowy and all together frigid. Do you know what this means? It means, I'm not taking trips to the dog park or going on long walks through the neighborhood. It also means I'm making more frequent trips to go O-U-T because instead of taking care of all of my business I only take care of part of it forcing me to go out more often. So what? I don't like the freezing wet feel of snow on my velvety paw. It also means I look for ways to entertain myself.

But, I can't complain too much. I spent my weekend cuddled up in Mommy's amazingly soft blanket and watched a lot of movies, drank a lot of hot chocolate, ate a lot of cookies, and pondered why it's so great to be a dog. OK. Just kidding about hot chocolate and the cookies, I tried believe you me.

So here is why I think it's pretty good to be a god. I can be gross and totally get away with it.
I slept on two stacked pillows, which I always do. I leaked butt juice on a pillow and the couch, peed on the parent's bed, farted, burped a couple of times, blew snot in my parents faces, drooled water on the floor, regurgitated my food (that must be why my face stinks), ate my regurgitated food, sniffed my poop and pee, and farted again this time clearing the room. All this and no consequences. Well, other than peeing on my parents bed; I got in trouble for that one. But, it's not my fault. It was cold outside and raining and no one laid any blankets down for me to walk on nor did they hold an umbrella to protect me from the cold rain.

Apparently, if you're cute and can look like this:



you can be disgusting and the humans will be shocked and grossed out at first, but they'll always come back laughing for more. I think that says more about them than it does anything else. What do you say?


And yes...my editor saw the typo in the 3rd paragraph. She tried to change it, but the truth is, we pugs are doggy gods. Who else can get away with sleeping underneath a blanket on two stacked pillows?

Trip to the Bakery

On a gray chilly fall day, I donned my gray sweater and hopped in the car with my Mom and her cousin and took a trip downtown. We went to a bakery, but not just any bakery. We went to a bakery just for dogs. That's right, humans Not allowed. OK, they're allowed, but they can't buy anything for themselves no matter how good it looks. I know Mommy was so tempted. But, I digress.

We went to Three Dog Bakery and browsed around the store a bit. I was surprised to see they sold other items other than food, but I didn't really care. We found leashes and collars, sweaters and shirts, food bowls and beds for sale. You know what else they sold? Paintings. That's right. Paintings. But, the cool part is, it was painted by a dog. A DOG?! They put up pictures of the artist painting for proof. But, I remain skeptical.

We walked into the store and Mommy made me browse along with her. I didn't mind because I got some attention from other customers. Unfortunately, my sweater was a big hit! Don't they know they're only encouraging my parents to make me wear it? It seemed like an hour passed before we went to the counter to pick out my treats even though it was only 10 minutes.

As Mommy ordered my treats, I stuck my head under the swinging counter door to see giant dogs. So I growled and barked at them. Mommy didn't appreciate the fact that I was trying to pick a fight with the Great Danes. The guy behind the corner didn't mind. He liked me and would give me samples of their bakery items if I licked him and shook his hand.

So here's what we got: One carrot cake that truly smells like carrot cake and two different types of "pupcakes." I wanted to get an "itty bitty kitty" too, but for some reason I didn't.



I left the bakery fat and happy and excited to eat my treats at home. In my excitement I temporarily lost my mind. I pooped right in front of a restaurant door. Oops.

I got to enjoy my first "pupcake" the next day. It would have been more enjoyable if Mommy didn't take a zillion photos. But, she let me eat one of the pupcakes.


It was so yummy! I wish I could have eaten the others.

Apparently, I have to ration them out because they were rather expensive. Maybe I'll get to enjoy one this weekend.